It's Just A Dream
by hellorea
Summary: See what happens when a new celebrity stops by a lowly intern's radio station.  Attention this is about the actors not their characters.  My attempt at being funny. Don't flame, please.  Looking for Beta


Disclaimer: A complete and total work of fiction based off a really weird dream that I had once upon a time when I was able to actually sleep, so something like that. So, in other words, no, I do not own anything other than this idea. It's about the actors themselves and not about the characters that they play and well, I tossed myself into the mix for fun. Even though I am a Rachel B, I giggle every time I read a fanfic with Puck and Rachel B. Right now, so with that being said…

If I owned anything I don't think that I would be in a computer lab right now typing this out at only an hour at a time.

* * *

_Later Today_

Sometimes I find it interesting the things that we do day in and day out. Minor things and actions that can cause a major experience to either happen or a huge blow up of dramatic proportions to occur, either way I don't think that I would have been here if I hadn't gotten up this morning. As in here, right now looking down at this beautiful man on my couch like a creepy stalker type which is why I need to stop starring and continue onto my quest of turning off the television that he left on. Odd, that famous people seem normal and even weirder than that is that how they seem almost as lonely as the rest of us…

But, I think that I'm getting ahead of myself here, like I always do when I tell a story. So let's start at the beginning.

* * *

_Earlier Today_

'Wake me up before you go-go. Don't leave me hanging' on like a yo-yo…'

_Grumble, grumble._ My hand sneaks out from under the pillow to switch off the annoying alarm clock only to have it fall off the night stand and onto the hardwood floor with a mighty '_CRASH!'_ Head jilts up at the loud sound before flopping back into the comfort of the cushion below.

"Five more minutes, I swear."

'Wake me up before you go-go. Don't leave me hanging' on like a yo-yo…'

_Grr._ Obviously an alarm cannot be reasoned with if it is out of reach.

'Wake me up before you…'

"GOD, I GOT IT ALREADY!" My body tumbles out from under the covers and rolls over to grasp the blasted object before it has a chance to sing that stupid song all over again. Once again letting my friend pick out something is obviously a bad idea because she seems to always pick something out that will be tacky and annoying. Wisps of chocolate locks fall into my face while I fumble with the stupid piece of plastic ripping the battery out of the back and chucking it across the room. Overkill, indeed but you don't understand what one must put up with when their best friend lives with you for over a month then _finally_ finds another place to live thus leaving you to your own devices as well as leaving a dastardly parting gift, see the annoying clock that just happens to sing Wham's big hit "Wake Me Up." "Ugh." Why does said friend hate me so?

Creamy hands rise up and wipe the sleep from my eyes as I slumps over to the bathroom for my wake up routine. Slathering the soap onto my face and brushing teeth before mildly attempting to make myself look somewhat presentable. Ten minutes before I have to leave and still I find it hard to complete this task. Getting up out of bed is hard but going to a place of business where thousands of screaming teens and young adults alike will be lurking outside chanting one name over and over, is not something that I wants to really deal with, nor have the capacity to overcome at the moment. I hope that they got the memo that said person is suppose to be there tomorrow instead of today. I hope, I hope, I … screw it.

Popping a few migraine pills into my mouth then chug it down with a cold glass of water before hastily stuffing myself into jeans and my black work shirt. Interning at a radio station is not the best gig in the world, but it does have its perks. Like, last week for example, I was sent on a simple errand of finding this certain bottle water for an upcoming starlet; needless to say I was gone for virtually the whole portion of the day in desperate _search_ of the elusive water when in actually I stocked up on a few cases last time and kept them in my apartment for when she would come back through. Ha, I spent most of the afternoon sleeping on my couch before coming back to the station four hours later and a spectacular story about how I had to fight off an elderly lady for the last case in the county. Yes, ladies and gentleman, the Oscar _should_ have gone to me because I fooled my boss into not only believing my stupid story but he was so concern that he allowed me to have the rest of the day off with an extra sixty bucks in my pocket for my _troubles_ as he likes to call it.

Well, that was last week and those kinds of jobs I have a knack for completing. It's the kind of job that is to be expected of me today that I'm dreading. A new, hunky, cute, beautiful, talented, actor, singer, songwriting, any other adjective you want to put in has a new album and it's being launched and we, my little radio station, are one of his stops on this massive tour looping and squiggling through the great United States, joy.

Time check, _5:43, _shit! I'm dead if I can't get there at five 'til six. Usually a fifteen minute walk is going to have to be a five minute run. Ten blocks to go and not a peep outside, I think that I can make it, I hope. I slip on my tennis shoes, a few Twizzlers into my blazer pocket, and hike my messenger bag over my shoulders before leaving my wonderful apartment and bolting down the hallway, down the stairs and out the front door. The world around me passes me by, whizzing by a news stand and early exercisers, ha, silly people getting up early just to exercise... and up to the front of work with no crowds. Yes! I lucked out today! I end up making it to work with just under a minute to spare, phew.

"Rachel." My boss, Andrew spits out while shoveling a great big doughnut into his mouth. I really didn't have the heart to tell him that he got a bit of power from the caked good on his cheek and nose. No, better let him figure that out for himself. We wonder the hall together on our way down to the broadcasting room in a moment of awkward silence. I guess when you hit on your boss while insanely drunk at last year's Christmas Party, only as a joke (I swear!) then remembering it months after the fact because he finally approaches the subject about work relationships is still a no-no, that it would be awkward. Huh, who knew? Anyways, we are off the subject and he's looking at me as if I've grown another head so I should answer him.

"Andrew." I retort back chewing on my cheek trying not to make any sort of eye contact with him, yeah, look with the peripherals.

"You're late." Another bite and this time a swig of coffee was taken before he leers at me. Yeah, Andrew could have been cute back in the day, but now the lack of upkeep and comb over just isn't becoming of a 42 year old man.

"Actually, I have about 15 seconds before I am." I smile brightly before sneaking into the room and shutting the door on him before he could say anymore. This is my life, being sent off to do Lord knows what and taking all the contempt crap from management. A scowl plastered onto my face as I turn abruptly and plow right into a wall of muscle then falling back down onto the ground landing firmly on my plush derrière. Ouch.

"Oww." Yeah, that's about all that I can manage before I find myself staring up into bright green eyes, so much brighter and full of life than my dull hazel, not bitter, not bitter. "Err. Hm. Sorry?" I squeak out before pulling myself together and slowly getting off the floor. Didn't help that the green-eyed man decided that he was going to be a gentleman and help me off the floor by way of holding my arm. God, when did it get hot in here?

"Heh. Yeah, it's no problem." A rich baritone voice filled my ears as a very seductive smirk followed suit. So this must be the person that everyone must be all in a frenzy about. "Hi, I'm Mark, Mark Salling." Hands were extended while fingers grip and shake before pulling back hastily and running through my windblown hair.

"Nice to meet you, Mark, I'm Rachel…"

"Our Intern, now Mark let me show you…" Another man while I attempt to zone him out as he pulls the equally breathtaking man (Mark) over to a swivel chair and head sets, the condescending prick, Dave our lovely broadcaster ladies and gents. Careful he bites.

A small smile was given back my way before he was pulled into what they were going to be discussing. I take my place in the back of the room and pull out my sketch book and a few pens for scribbling madly all the randomness in my head. One of my favorite past times is to draw, not that I am any good at it, but it calmed me down when I think that I am going to snap. Taking the time to draw my rendition of Andrew and how he looked this morning, remembering the stains on his stark white dress shirt and powered mouth, I even remembered to but a few hairs out of place in his comb over. I have to bite my lip to keep from cackling like mad over the very rendition of a sickly man well over his actual age.

Fifteen minutes come and go while Prick, as I like to call Dave, continues to drone on about his fame to Mark. I eye roll before continuing on with my doodles. I pull out a bottle of water and a few water colored crayons for good measure and peer at Mr. Salling noticing his strong jaw line and full lips move as he talked, talk about a walking Adonis. Trying to take a step back from the world and focusing on every little detail with an artists eye, like my mother says. Pinpointing the truth behind what they want us to see will allow us to view the real them. I focus here, perhaps too focused because I noticed those brilliant green eyes flicker over towards me a few times and me, well like a pro I hunker down further into my seat and bit back an embarrassing squeak while working with my crayons. See, this is totally what I do on a day to day basis, though; I usually can do it with more class than this. When Johnny Depp came in promoting _Alice in Wonderland, _I didn't scream or blush once. Yet, why with this stranger seems to have more hold over my physical response? Guess he was used to women fawning over him. He is rather good looking. In a brutish kind of way, you know? And that smirk is down right panty dropping. Not that I would be dropping my panties, oh no. Nuh huh. No way, no how.

Ahem. Moving on now.

A commercial break was given and the Prick whisked himself away to be pampered by the vending machine and a very cheap latte that served mediocre coffee at best. I was so focused on this new sketch that I didn't even notice Mark takes it upon himself to come investigate what I am doing. Wet fingers rubbed on white paper coloring with ochre under his eyes and mixing with the peach hue I added first. I seem to never want to draw someone how they look now, either aging them twenty years or subtracting a dozen however cruel I want to be at that particular moment. Here, now I've aged him slightly to almost seventy giving him aged spots and crows feet near the corners of his eyes, though no matter what I did I couldn't let his bright eyes fade in time, they still held all the expression that he had today. I'd imagine how he would age; thinking that he would be lean instead of fat and his skin would be tight against bones. He would be like my grandfather still handsome and would know it.

"Not bad."

"Gah!" Water spilt and paper flown wildly around both of us as he again laughs at my misfortune. "Huh? What?" Nice, Rachel, real nice.

"The picture, you know it's not bad. Always wanted to know what I would look like getting older."

"Thanks." I plaster on an award winning grin full of teeth and continue to slide out of my chair to pick up the fallen sheets.

"So, is this all that you do?" He asks while handing me a few papers and other attempts at sketches.

"You mean other than sitting in the corner and draw celebrities and horrid pictures of my bosses?" I gasp. "Nope," Making sure to pop the 'p' sound before continuing onward with my little speech. "My job is to make sure that everyone is comfortable. Why? Did you need something? More water, a sandwich, a girl, or boy?"

His eyes just blink at me while I think he tries to focus on my mild rambling.

"Just kidding, I can't get a Taiwanese boy this late in the game, you know with customs and all. Better luck next time you come through, though." I snort before biting my lip in hopes of shutting myself up.

"Water would be great." I swear if he gives me another smirk I'm going to have to swoon just a litt– well, crap he just did. Damn it!

"What? Oh. Sure, I'll be back in a jiff." Zooming out of the room faster than I've ever done before and slinking past Andrew and Prick those pesky gossipmongers over by the sink in the kitchen, please oh please let them not see me. Eyes close shut as I stick my hand into the fridge trying to grab the slender neck of the bottled water before anyone of them notice that I'm in the room. So…close. Fingers slip around the plastic cap as I quickly pull up the packaged water before silently shutting the door and trying to slip back out unnoticed.

"Ah, Rachel, I have something to tell you…" Andrew starts.

_Ah Crap_.

"Oh? Yes?" See I can answer positively. "Got to make this quick, because Mr. Salling needs his liquids." I say while holding up the bottle for good measure. When in doubt people you must use a prop to convey what you need. Also it's better than giving them a few selective hand gestures that I would rather be giving.

"Well, I guess that I can talk to you both about what is going on."

Shit, this is so not going to be good.

"Okay?" I squeak out trying not to sound as nervous as I feel. Great, this means that I'm going to have to go somewhere today or cart someone around or find some random and totally useless diet item for some freakizoid who can't seem to digest wholesome foods for a change. Reluctantly both he and I wonder back into that _tiny_ little room to discuss what is _going on._ Yippee.

"Now, Mark." Andrew starts.

"Mr. Salling." I cough out while I hand him his bottle of water.

"I understand that you are due to come back later tonight, but unfortunately we have to cancel. Rick has himself in a midst a bit of a problem and cannot come in until tomorrow at the earliest. Could I interest you in the second part of your interview with him tomorrow?"

A pregnant pause filled with tension, I wonder what's going to happen.

"Well, I don't have to be in Chicago until late next Friday so I can stay for a little while longer." Let's see here people, today is Friday so that would mean six days if he so chooses to stay, with Mr. Mark Salling.

"That's great…"

"Wait, what? Why can't Rick come in tonight?" I grab Andrew's hand and tug him over with as much force as my mighty little five foot three body can muster. "Explain." Because I know that tomorrow is my day off, so he better not be asking me to cart Mr. Hunk around and er, um, stuff.

"Rick has gotten into an accident…"

"Huh! Is he okay? Oh my God, how could you just say that he's _in a midst a problem_," Add air quotation marks for good measure here folks. "It makes it sound like he's a slacker." Which he is, but when you're famous you don't really sweat those kind of details. Interns do, especially those interns who the person fired because he keeps hitting on you or slapping your butt whenever he can, but that doesn't mean that I can't be worried for a person who could very well be harmed. See, I'd like to think of myself as a sort of humanitarian. "Can you be so…"

"Rachel. Calm down." I huff out and kick my toe into the side of the wall to keep from going off on Andrew. Yeah, I and authority aren't really best pals.

"He just called me before you came in. He'll be back tomorrow. He just needs to be observed through tonight to make sure he's okay. Moving on, you'll be driving him around today." Andrew spits out before returning to Mark and talking about what should be going on tomorrow.

'You'll be driving him around today…' Funny, that sounded awfully like I'm suppose to play chauffer to tall, dark, and dreamy.

"Huh?" I cut in.

"You get to drive him around. Can't have him getting lost now, can we?" Andrew pulls me over to the side to whisper. "Stop being a smart ass and just do this for once. Your job is on the line."

Ha. He used that one, one too many times. My job, ha, I don't even get paid much. I make more in unemployment than I do _working_ here.

"Whatever. But, I expect gas money. Oh, and a better car to drive him around. My car is kind of broken."

"Define broken?" He mused while raising an eyebrow. The douche bag knew what had happened he just likes making me relive the experience and in front of more people the better.

"Well, last time I drove it the engine caught on fire, kind of broken…"

"Hmph. Well, fine, take the company car. "

Keys were handed over while poor Mark just stood back watching our banter back and forth.

"And Rachel," Andrew starts up again as I wonder back over to Mark.

"Yes Twinkles?" I smile back to him.

"Please be careful. I don't want him damaged too badly before his interview tomorrow."

My eyes widen to the size of saucer plates while I watched Mark's body language.

"Note to the boss man, if you want said celebrity to get into the car with the lowly intern you best not poke fun of said interns driving record." I plaster on another award winning smile before I rapidly grab my things together and out the door with the said celebrity.

"He was just kidding, you know. I'm an excellent driver. It's the other people you have to worry about. Ha, ha." Oh God, just smite me now. He looks like a mixture of terrified and amused at the same time. My eyes give a slight roll as I squared my shoulders to hoist that damn messenger bag up.

"Come on, Bright Eyes." I toss over my shoulder and head down the big dark hallway and towards the parking lot. Oh, this should be interesting.


End file.
